War of Hearts (True Immortality) - S Young Page 0,114
must find the children.” They were the key to opening the gate. They were the key to delivering me back to my mate.
“Yes,” Eirik had muttered. “The children must be found.”
I did not know then that it was the beginning of a war between my brother and me, as he sought to destroy my only hope of returning home.
“Interesting read?”
Thea blinked, coming up out of Jerrik’s story to stare at Conall. He gave her a sleepy smile. Her heart beat a little faster. “It wasn’t just about his love for the fae world.” She tapped the book. “Jerrik was mated to a fae princess. He wanted to use the children—me—to get back to her.”
“I believe he was mated.” She dropped her eyes to the pages. “He describes it so realistically.”
“And the rest.”
Thea shrugged. “It sounds like a fairy tale.”
“Ironically.”
Thea met Conall’s gaze. “He describes the fae as contrary, often brutal. They thought themselves superior to other races. Why would the Blackwoods want to open a gate to that?”
“Magic,” Conall replied. “It’s purported to be a place of pure magic. Witches can only tap into a certain energy here. Faerie is something entirely different.”
She nodded and sighed, closing the book. Their eyes locked. “We live in a very strange world, Chief MacLennan.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “I hate to tell you this, lass, but you and I … we’re two of the very beings that make it a strange world.”
Chuckling, Thea lifted her legs off his lap and then scooted into his side so she could snuggle against his chest. Conall put his arm around her and drew her close. Stretching out her long legs—though nowhere near as long as his—she tried to quell the nervous fluttering in her stomach.
It wasn’t just from reading Jerrik’s accounts of a world she still wasn’t sure she believed in.
The fluttering was about Scotland. Torridon.
Thea was about to meet the pack.
Conall’s pack.
She watched as Conall slid one leg under one of hers, inviting her to curl it around him, which she did. Tangling them together.
Together, Thea reminded herself.
They were in this together.
To Conall’s relief, he and Thea made it back to Scotland without incident. The Blackwoods had either lost their trail or word of Eirik’s defeat was already making the rounds, and fear of Thea had taken root.
He still marveled at what he’d seen in Vik’s apartment. What being on Earth was powerful enough to emit pure sunlight, killing only the vampires she’d been intent on destroying?
It was magic.
Pure and simple.
It was fae.
Conall couldn’t think on it too long because he feared the danger it represented for her. Instead, he concentrated on watching her reaction as they drove toward Torridon. Upon arriving in Immingham, they’d taken the motorway all the way home past Yorkshire and the Lake District. They crossed the border into Scotland, driving past the pretty lowlands, none of which Thea could see because it was nighttime. However, the dawn broke just as they reached Inverness.
“It’s beautiful,” Thea whispered, staring out the passenger window as they crossed the Beauly Firth. The clouds hung low over the shallow mountains, turning the water of the firth gray.
“This is nothing,” he promised.
Conall knew the moment the beauty hit her. The sun broke through the clouds; the skies cleared as they turned off the main road at Kinlochewe and toward the single track that would lead to Torridon. When they turned a corner a small loch appeared, surrounded by towering mountains, and Thea let out a little whoosh of breath. Keeping an eye on the road for oncoming traffic and watching Thea was difficult, but he caught the wonder on her face and pride bloomed in his chest.
Out here the rest of the world felt far away. It wasn’t an isolating feeling. At least, Conall didn’t think so. It was a piece of the planet that had been left untouched. Majestic and peaceful.
Thea didn’t speak as they drove, her eyes wide, her head tilting back as she peered out the window. “The mountains are huge here,” she whispered, craning to see the peak of the one they drove under. Sporadic clusters of forest interrupted her view.
“Beinns,” Conall replied. “We call them beinns. This here is Beinn Eighe, two of which are classified as Munros.”
“What’s a Munro?”
“A mountain with a height over three thousand feet.”
“Wow,” she said. “Conall … it’s majestic.”
He smiled, nodding. “That’s the exact word I always think of when I’m home.”